


Sometimes the bad things turn out the Best

by Azile_Teacup



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 08:25:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1681508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azile_Teacup/pseuds/Azile_Teacup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for this prompt: Modern AU Arthur/Merlin<br/>I absolutely love a hurt Arthur with a Merlin who has been trying to hide/deny his feelings for him, but it all comes out in front of everyone when Arthur is hurt (I don't care if he's hit by a car, mugged, comes down with meningitis, whatever). A confused (drugged, feverish, dreaming) Arthur would be wonderful worked in here somehow.<br/>Everything else is up to author, but please...a happy ending for our boys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: self harm mentioned, life-threatening injuries, car crash, hospitals, possible consent issues for kissing

Merlin glares at the 'beautiful view', crossing his arms and sulking. Arthur had demanded he come along to this picnic, this romantic picnic, with Mithian. Perfect Mithian with her beautiful hair and tom boyish tendencies, Mithian who can ride a quad bike without falling off, Mithian who's suddenly become Arthur's nearest and dearest. Stealing Merlin's rightful place as best friend ever just because she remembered to bring baby bells and Merlin didn't. 

"Merlin, stop sulking."

"I am not sulking."

"Yes, you are. We mustn't have a tiff, we have a guest."

"We're on a picnic. We're all guests of... of..." Merlin looks around at the forest, trying to work out who they're guests of, "Whinnie the Pooh."

"Whinnie the Pooh?"

Merlin points to the big tree with the hole in it's trunk, a log lying by the 'doorway'. 

"That... looks remarkably like the picture in the book," Arthur say. 

"Yes."

"Still, no sulking. Enjoy the view! The sun! The beautiful day!"

Merlin looks around and sees Mithian engrossed in her book. Which explains why Arthur's now bothering Merlin. 

"The beautiful, romantic picnic for three? Should I enjoy that, too?" Merlin asks, sarcastically. 

"What? Romantic? Merlin! It's Mith."

Arthur gives Merlin a 'god you're really thick' look, and then his eyes widen.

"You're jealous!" Arthur crows, far too excited.

"I am not."

"Yes, you are. That's why you're sulking. You're jealous because she's so much better at everything than you are!"

"No she isn't."

"Yes she is. Look, she's reading intelligent books. She kept up on the bikes. She ate like a horse, swore like a sailor and nearly, nearly, beat me in a foot race. She's perfect!"

Merlin scowls.

"And then there's you. Sure you read intelligent books, but... well. Merlin. Let's face up-"

Merlin's heard enough. He slaps a hand over Arthur's mouth, ignoring Arthur's far too amused laughter until Arthur licks his palm.

"Yuck!"

"Ha! I win."

"We weren't- oh never mind. Why would I win? Weren't we just facing the fact I'm useless?"

"You've always been useless, Merlin. Why's it making you grumpy now?"

Merlin glares. He isn't useless. Usually he'd think Arthur was just teasing, but Mithian's right there. And Merlin hates how Arthur lets her come with them on these picnics and hates how she takes his place at the dinner table right next to Arthur and how she-

"You're sulking again. Come on M, what's up?" Arthur asks.

"Nothing."

"Okay. Fine. You're not useless. Happy now?" Arthur asks. Merlin just snorts, "I was teasing, Merl. You know that. Right? I mean, I was teasing. You do know, right? Oh for... fine. You're far from useless. I like having you around. Just because you're horrible at driving a quad bike doesn't mean-"

"Is this your idea of a pep talk?"

"I'm sorry you're not enjoying it. Maybe you should go back to the house."

"Maybe I should."

Arthur sighs and waves Merlin off. Merlin ignores the concern he can read easily in Arthur's expression, ignores the fact that he knows Arthur was just teasing, he knows he's still Arthur's best friend. That's never been an issue. It's... he doesn't know what it is. Mithian makes him feel all out of sorts.

"I'm going to walk back," Merlin says. 

"What about your bike?"

"You'll find a way."

"Fine!"

"Fine."

Merlin stomps away. He does take the bike in the end, but out of spite he takes Arthur's pride and joy, the one he never lets Merlin anywhere near for fear he'll crash it. Merlin drives very slowly, muttering about prats the whole way, and parks without mishap in the drive of Arthur's 'country estate'. It's actually a working farm, run by Arthur's sister's mother, but Merlin calls it his country estate anyway. He stomps into the farm house and chucks the bike keys at the hooks on the wall, kicking off his wellies.

He's twenty two, he's starting a masters in September, he is too old to... what is this? Have a tantrum. That's it. He sighs and head for the kitchen where he knows no one will be at this hour. Vivienne's working, Arthur's out, the only other person who might be here is Arthur's younger brother Mordred and Merlin can hear him upstairs, playing horrible music. Leon and Percy and the others went up to the dam to swim, so the kitchen is Merlin's to sit in, catching the last of the sun. 

The swimmers come home before Merlin's got in much of a nap, dozing like a cat on the window seat, and then Mordred comes down and there are insults and wrestling and attempts at making pizza dough (under Gwaine's expert supervision the attempts at last coalesce into usable dough). Merlin watches it all in morose silence, waiting for Arthur and Mith to return arm in arm, pink with love and kissing like little... doves. Merlin goes with doves. 

"Hey mopey, all right?" Gwen asks, coming over.

"Fine. I have a headache and you all are not helping."

"Aw, poor li'l baby."

"Go away Gwen, go bother your boyfriend."

"I already got him bothered with Morgana's bikini. I stole it from her closet. Much more useful for 'bothering' then my black one piece."

"Your swimming costume is sexy."

"It's black. And plain."

"It looks good. It suits you."

"Oh. In that case, tell me your troubles you charmer."

Merlin smiles and links their arms when Gwen sits.

"Arthur forced me to go with him and Mith on their coo-ing picnic. I hate being gooseberry fool," Merlin explains, picking a bit of field out of Gwen's curls. 

"They're not flirting, nincompoop. Arthur's just... enamoured."

"Fine, fine. Whatever. They ought to be back now anyway," Merlin says, frowning, "What's the time?"

"Hmm. Dunno. Lance!"

"Yes dearest honeybunch?" Lance says, grinning.

"Time?" Gwen asks. 

"Nearly seven thirty." Lance says. 

Merlin frowns harder. Arthur really should be back by now. Even giving time for him and Mithian to get distracted by each other, he should be back. Merlin stands up, ready to go look for them, fearing some great accident, but then the front door opens and Arthur and Mithian fall inside, tripping over one another before racing to the kitchen. Merlin's eyes widen as he realises they're coming for him and he trips backwards, caught by Arthur's hands. 

"Ha! I win! I got him first!" Arthur pants.

"Spoil sport. He helped you," Mithian says.

"No, he didn't. He tripped over, how does that- ohhh! Pizza!" Arthur sys, getting distracted.

Arthur notices Mordred has emerged from his bedroom and tugs Merlin over so he can ruffle Mordred's hair. 

"Arthur, I am not your doll. Don't tug on me," Merlin says, but goes along anyway. 

"Sorry. You're so bitchy today, Merlin," Arthur says.

"Maybe because you are acting like a toddler, Arthur," Mordred says. 

Arthur smiles at Mordred and then goes to take off his wellies. Merlin traipses after him absently, not really paying much attention. 

"Are you all right, Merlin?" Arthur says.

"Mm."

"Oh, come on."

Arthur grabs Merlin again and pulls him along through the dining room, downstairs to the music room. He puts on the light and opens the curtains that hide a bank of French windows, curving around, that look out across the valley. 

"I always forget how pretty this is," Merlin says, looking out.

"Yeah. What's the matter, Merlin?"

"I don't know. I just feel out of sorts."

"Another of your feelings. All right, but try not to mope too much?"

"Bringing the party down?"

"Yes. And it worries me, as you know."

Merlin nods, thinking of the thin scars on his arms that Arthur found and demanded the story of. He hasn't added to them since he was thirteen but Arthur does worry. Has always worried. The butterflies he redraws over Mordred's fresh cuts every time he comes home don't help with that. They stand together, looking out of the French windows. Arthur sighs and Merlin watches him try to gather his playful mood around himself again. Right now he just looks tired and ready for bed.

"We could leave them to their pizza. You can play for me," Merlin says

"Maybe. All right. We'll get Mordred to get us some pizza."

Merlin smiles. Mordred will probably bring them some anyway. He knows where Arthur retreats to, will probably work out that they're not coming back. He's far too smart, that one. Merlin pads over to his arm chair and sits cross legged, waiting for the music. He loves listening to Arthur play. It's how they met, the first term of sixth form. Merlin was late for a Sunday drama rehearsal and he'd crashed into the wrong hall and interrupted Arthur's practise. Arthur had been rude and angry and Merlin had challenged him to play if he was so bloody important. Which had been a silly idea but then Arthur had accepted the challenge (as Merlin quickly learnt he always would) and played. And Merlin had missed his rehearsal to listen. 

Mordred does slip in with a plate of pizza and a report of a game of nightball, an invention of Gwaine's that Arthur says is lethal and refuses to let either Merlin or Mordred play. Not that he pauses in his piece to do so now, he just glares until they settle here instead. Merlin sighs and leans his head back, feeling better, letting the music wash over him.

"It's nice, Arthur," Mordred says quietly, after a few minutes.

"Thank you Mordred. I wrote it for my mother, about... a year ago, Merlin?"

"Yeah. Mother's day last year," Merlin says.

"Mm. We played it for Hunith, didn't we?" 

"Mmhmm."

"I like it. I think she would have, too," Mordred says.

They sit quietly for a while, then Arthur plays some Joplin until Merlin bursts out laughing and makes Mordred dance, and then they head for bed leaving the others to fend for themselves.

"Is Mum back tomorrow?" Mordred asks on the landing.

"Yes. She's just staying with Gina over night so she can meet with Richard about bulls tomorrow. The cows are ready to mate," Arthur says, grinning.

"Lovely, Arthur. Goodnight guys," Mordred says. 

"Night Mord," Merlin and Arthur both say.

Merlin wanders into Arthur's room after doing his teeth and drifts off with Arthur's feet in his face, the same as he has for nearly six years, on and off. Arthur enjoys shoving them into Merlin's face to torture him but tonight he falls asleep before Merlin, muttering something about mushrooms before subsiding into snores.

Merlin wakes far too early for the holiday and sneaks out of bed, leaving Arthur to sleep. He tiptoes down to the kitchen and starts a pot of coffee. The others will wake in their own time, but at least Leon and Percy are early risers so they'll be wanting coffee pretty soon, and Arthur usually wakes pretty soon after Merlin does if they're sharing the bed. 

Merlin ignores the house phone, Arthur can get it. He opens the curtains and looks out, wondering how much destruction nightball caused before Leon herded everyone to bed. Probably not too much, they're all practically grown ups now. Then again, this is their last chance to be young and free before heading off for jobs and further education and the real world. The end of university. 

"Yeah... yes, okay. I'll... what? No, he's asleep... Yes Leon is... Fine, fine. Bye Viv. Ah, Merlin. And Coffee. Good," Arthur says, wandering in with the house phone pinned between his shoulder and ear.

Arthur hangs up and drops the phone on the table, and takes Merlin's cup, trousers unzipped, only one sock on, jumper rucked over one arm but not properly on yet. He takes a hasty sip and continues dressing, pressing the mug back into Merlin's hands. 

"Viv is... stuck in Aber. I'm gonna take the Jeep... damn it!" Arthur says, getting stuck in his jumper.

Merlin laughs and helps Arthur get his head out of the head hole of his hoody instead of being stuck in the arm hole. Arthur's hair stands up everywhere and Merlin smooths it as best he can as Arthur drinks more of his coffee.

"Okay. How long will you be?" Merlin asks. 

"Dunno. Depends about the truck. We can't really just leave it, it's the sheep one so it's big."

"Okay then, give me a call?"

"Mmhm. Oh! Can you feed the chickens? Mordred will collect the eggs and Gili will be down at eight for the milking, but Vivienne does the chickens."

"Of course. What about the sheep?"

"Tell Gili- he comes in for a cup of tea- tell him we're on our way but if we're not back by lunch he should do them."

"Right. Go on, go save your step mother."

Arthur laughs and leaves with a wave, hair still sticking up at silly angles. Merlin replenishes his coffee and hums to himself, waiting for the others to wake.

By nine thirty, Everyone except Gwaine and Percy are up, all slumping around the kitchen table and moaning into their coffee about never playing a Gwaine-conceived game again. Merlin knows they'll al play again, every single one of them. He watches Gwen kiss Lance's ear and laugh at something he says, watches Mordred talking to Leon seriously about something that makes Leon smile and he can hear Percy and Gwaine talking sleepily to one another in the spare room off the kitchen. Even Elyan seems content, not thinking about his lost love, whoever it was this time. Mithian's making coffee and humming. Merlin ignores her. The phone rings just as Gili comes in for tea. 

"I'll get it, Mordred. Tell Gili about the sheep!" Merlin says.

He jumps down the two steps to the hall and grabs the phone.

"Hello, Pendragons'," Merlin says. 

"... Merlin...?"

"Arthur? Hey, what's up? Yeah, it's me."

"I... I think..."

Arthur lets out a pained gasp and Merlin tightens his grip on the phone.

"Arthur? Are you okay?"

"Um... not sure... hurts... Can't... I think I crashed."

"Shit. Do you need help? Is Viv with you?"

"Don't think... so."

"I'm gonna call and ambulance. Where are you?"

"Bridge. I think... not sure."

"Okay. Okay. All right. Hang on." 

Merlin rummages through his pockets for his mobile, things falling to the floor as he roots around. He finally gets hold of it and dials, listening to Arthur's harsh breathing. At least he's breathing. But what the hell? Merlin tries not to think. He'll just react. Think later. 

-This is the emergency services, which service do you need?-

"Ambulance. My friend crashed his car, I think. He's not very sure what's going on. There might be two people, but I think just one."

-All right sir, where is your friend?-

"I don't really know! The Abergevenny road, somewhere between Pontrillas and Aber. He said something about a bridge."

"Merl... in?"

"Still here, Arthur. I'm just talking to the ambulance people."

"I can't... can't move... hurts..."

"Okay, okay. Hang on. He can't move, just keeps saying it hurts."

-See if you can find out what hurts. Keep him calm. We're on our way, Mr...-

"Merlin. I'm Merlin. He's Arthur. They're coming, Arthur. They're on their way. Just... hang on, okay?"

"Kay..."

"Where does it hurt?"

"... legs. My back... Merlin!"

"Okay, okay. Shh. I'm here. He says his back and his legs. I think his head too."

-I'll stay on the line, keep me up to date with any developments-

"Where will you take him? When you find him?"

-Abergavenny General.-

"Right. Thanks. Okay. Leon!"

Leon pokes his head out of the kitchen, smiling and waving. 

"Arthur... he crashed. He's... can you drive us?"

"What? Shit. Yeah, yeah of course. Mordred, come on," Leon says.

"Shit. Mordred," Merlin says.

"...M,m erlin?" Arthur says, sounding pained.

"Yeah?" Merlin says.

"'scold. Mord?"

"He's here. He's okay."

"'s'good. Good... kay."

Merlin shoves his feet into shoes, realises he's not going to be able to take the house phone and groans in frustration, tears sneaking their way out. Leon and Mordred are already wearing shoes. Leon holds out his phone to Merlin, eyes grave and worried. 

"Arthur? can you hear me?" Merlin says.

"Mmhmm," Arthur mumbles. 

"Okay, I need you to do something," Merlin says. 

"Kay."

"I have to hang up. I have to hang up so we can come get you. Okay?"

"No! No, don't..."

"I'll ring you back on the mobile. Just... promise you'll answer. Arthur!"

"Promise."

Merlin nods and hangs up, hurrying out to Leon's car. He's vaguely aware of the other's following, getting into various vehicles, but he's too busy dialling. He does notice that Mordred crawls into the back with him, presses as close as the seat belt allows. The phone just beeps a dial tone, telling him Arthur's still on the phone. 

"Crap! He didn't,... he didn't hang up.. I can't..." Merlin says.

He tries again. And again. Then he realises that Mordred's shaking, tears tracking down his face. He picks up his own mobile.

"hello?" Merlin says. 

-Stil here, Merlin. The ambulance is nearly there.-

"I've lost the connection. I had to hang up."

-Okay. What can you tell me about his condition?-

"He wasn't very coherent. um... he didn't...I don't think he knew why I was going."

-Okay. Just a moment, Merlin... okay, the ambulance is with him, they're working on getting him out. They'll take him to Abergevenny general as soon as he's stable and out of the car.-

"Thank you."

-I can stay on the line as long as you need.-

"No. That's okay. I've got to... I need to call his step mother and his brother's with me. Thank you."

-That's all right.-

Merlin hangs up and takes Mordred's hand before calling Viv. Then he just has to wait, just has to not think about Arthur trapped. why had he called Merlin instead of an ambulance? Why didn't he call for help? Instead he'd just called Merlin. Or... no. Arthur hadn't called Merlin, had he? He'd called home. Merlin had just happened to pick up. Merlin's surprised at the pang that gives him, that Arthur hadn't called him. Why does it matter? But it does. Somehow, it does matter to Merlin.

Merlin's surprisingly calm. When they arrive he hands a tearful Mordred into Viv's care and they all wait. Mordred, Viv, Leon, Mithian, Gwen, Lance, Percy, Elyan and Gwaine, sitting in a line against the waiting room wall. They don't even know if Arthur's here yet, but they all wait anyway. Leon taps his foot until Elyan puts a stop to it with a grip on his thigh. Gwaine stays securely in Percy's arms, face buried against his shoulder. Viv talks on the phone to Uther, who knows what part of the world she's calling. 

Merlin sits calmly, stroking Gwen's hand. Lance has hold of the other hand and between them Gwen is crying silently, hanging on with a painful grip to both of them. They all know it's bad. Bad enough for them to be absolutely terrified. Except Merlin's not, he's strangely calm. He holds Gwen's hand, listens to Percy's soothing nonsense and Mordred's hiccuping tears, and he looks out of the window.

He's remembering. Remembering Arthur playing the piano for Merlin, the third time they met. Merlin had knocked Arthur off his feet because he hadn't been looking where he was going so Arthur had made Merlin come and turn the sheets of music. Merlin's pretty sure Arthur knew the piece by heart and just wanted to torture Merlin. It had been far from torture, though. Arthur plays like he's part of the music. Merlin smiles, thinking of Arthur's whole body as it sways, the way his fingers run along the keys, the way his forehead crinkles in concentration. Why he's studying business and not music Merlin hasn't got a clue. A lot of the time he thinks Arthur might not have a clue why, either. 

Then there's the time by the river. The first 'uni group' Mithian had tagged along with, only last month. She'd impressed Arthur with her football skills, pushed him into the river and then fished him out when she realised he couldn't swim. And then given him swimming lessons. Arthur had been infatuated, and they were perfect together. Merlin looks at her, sat so complaisantly. The only sign of worry is her hands clasping and unclasping in her lap. She meets Merlin's gaze but looks away quickly, eyes tearing. She's perfect for Arthur. Robust, funny, willing to argue and not be a doormat to him. Merlin sighs. Why doesn't he want it, then? For Arthur to have this perfect woman?

He pretends it's happened and they're together. Wonders if Arthur will play for Mith now. Maybe he'll make her chicken, and beans on toast, the two things he can cook. Maybe he'll watch rubbish sci fi ('come on, Merlin! Dune is awesome!') with Mithian now. Maybe he'll take her to the Pitt Rivers in Oxford and show her the shrunken heads. 

A nurse comes over asking for the Pendragons before Merlin can consider further the conundrum of Arthur and Mithian. She speaks quietly to Viv and Merlin watches carefully for any reaction. Viv covers her mouth with a hand, makes a small 'oh' sound and then sits rather abruptly.

"Vivienne?" Merlin asks.

"Merlin. Yes. He's here," she says.

"And?" Merlin asks.

"And... he's breathing." 

"But?"

"They... his legs... they think he might have damaged his back. One of the breaks is bad and... they don't know if they can set it. And he lost a lot of blood. The nurse said... she said they didn't know."

Vivienne says it quietly so no one else hears. So Mordred doesn't hear. Merlin wishes she hadn't let him know, either. Arthur's back. His legs. His blood.

"But he needs his blood," Merlin say.

"Merlin," Vivienne says. 

"No. No, he needs that. He can't... he needs his blood!"

Merlin doesn't realise he's stood up until Vivienne stands and presses his shoulders, doesn't realise he's shouted until he notices everyone staring at him. He looks around.

"He needs his blood, Viv. He needs it. He needs it."

"Mum?" Mordred asks.

"Hush. Merlin, sit," Vivienne says. 

Merlin pulls away from her. She has to go to Mordred, she can't bother with Merlin. Merlin goes to stand by the window, muttering. Arthur needs his blood. He can't loose it all. They give it, him and Merlin. They give it at the church. Maybe Merlin can give some of his blood to Arthur. They're the same type. He needs to find the nurse and tell her. He doesn't know where to look, though, and he knows it doesn't work that way. Blood needs to be tested and things before it can be put into another person. They can't just let Merlin bleed all over Arthur. But... but Arthur needs his blood. He can't loose it. He just can't. 

If Arthur looses his blood, what's Merlin meant to do? It's bad enough to have to be alone because Arthur's off with Mith, but what if... Merlin lurches forward and grips the window sill. He's not thinking that. He's not. Nope, not thinking it. Not thinking it. Not thinking, not thinking, not thinking. How's he meant to do it, without Arthur teasing and cajoling and playing the piano? Noticing all the wrong things and never seeing Merlin? He never sees Merlin, not entirely. Not properly. Merlin just wants Arthur to see him, to really see, the way Freya saw Merlin. Which was useless to him because Freya was a girl and Merlin's not really into that. Not that he's told anyone much about that. The whole wanting guys instead of girls thing. 

"He needs his blood," Merlin says again.

"Shh. Merlin, you need to let go of the window sill, love," Gwen says, appearing beside him. 

"No, Gwen. You don't understand."

"Yes, I know. I do."

"No you don't."

"I do. I know that you love him."

"Yes. He's my best friend. He's my friend, Gwen."

She gives him a sympathetic look and tries to pry his fingers off. But if he lets go Arthur might let go, too. So he holds on. 

"Merlin, you're going to hurt yourself," Gwen says.

Merlin shrugs. he doesn't care. Arthur's loosing his blood and Merlin can't do a thing to stop it. He wants... he wants...

"what can I do?" Gwen says. 

"Huh?" Merlin says. 

"To help you."

"Get him back. Go get Arthur back."

"He's in with the doctors. To get help."

"I want him here."

"I know. So do I."

Gwen's voice breaks and she rests her head on Merlin's shoulder for a moment.

"But they need to fix him, so he can get better. So he has to stay back there," Gwen says.

"I have blood. I have lots."

"I know. Shh. Come on, let go."

"I want him to be here. Now. Get him here."

Merlin lets go, though, and Gwen leads him back to the chairs. He sits and stares at the wall until a doctor in scrubs comes out, looking tired. There's no blood on him, but Merlin assumes they change before meeting the family. Before giving the bad news. 

"Family for Arthur Pendragon?"

"Here. I'm his step mother. This is his brother," Vivienne says.

"I would like to speak with you alone, please," The doctor says. 

"All right. Leon, watch Mordred. Merlin will come too, doctor. He's a family friend," Vivienne says. 

Merlin stands. He has to be the strong one, for Vivienne. He follows them to another waiting room, smaller, more comfortable, and sits on the sofa next to Viv holding her hand. They wait.

"He's stable. His condition is precarious, but he's stable. We've managed to stop the bleeding and set the leg, or begin the process. It's going to take more than one surgery to mend it. We were also able to get x-rays of his back, which we'll know more about soon. He has a head wound which we're a little worried about. We had to give him an anaesthetic for the surgery and we just have to wait and see if he wakes up. He has bruised ribs from the steering wheel. Luckily the air bag deployed, so the damage is minimal there."

"Is he gonna be okay?" Vivienne asks.

"I think so. I'm optimistic. He's young, in good shape and he seems strong. I think he'll pull through. His leg is going to be difficult and if there is damage to his back... but we'll cross that bridge when we know the extent of the damage there. His head is the main concern at the moment. We'd like one of you to sit with him, talk to him. It might help."

"Merlin, you go."

"Viv-"

"As much as I love Arthur, he's not my son. I wasn't a big part of his life until he went to college and even then it was just as a friend. No, Mordred's mine. It's Mordred that Arthur loves, Mordred and you. I don't want Mordred to have to do that."

"No. Okay."

Merlin gets up and takes a deep, steadying breath. Arthur's not dead. He's still alive. He's going to get better and Merlin's going to make him wake up. So there.

Merlin steps into the dimly lit room. There are beeping heart monitors and the rasp of breathing machines. Arthur once told him Ygraine's breathing machine had sounded like Darth Vader, and Merlin can hear it for himself now. He snickers as the nurse leads him down the row of curtained cubicles. She stops by one and draws the curtain aside, standing, waiting for him to step through. He decides he'll stay here for a minute. Just for a minute. See if Arthur gets up and comes out, or calls for him. 

Nothing happens. 

Merlin steps through. There's a bed, white sheets, and a chair, plastic, black. There's no breathing machine. That's good. Beeping heart monitor. Tubes and bags hanging. Chemicals dripping into Arthur's blood. A big bag of blood hung up, too. Good. Arthur needs blood. There's a chart at the bottom of the bed. Merlin recognises it from TV. Green curtains. Not a nice green, mind. Merlin sits. 

"Hello Arthur. It's me. It's Merlin."

Merlin glances at the bed sidelong to catch a glimpse of Arthur. He's been trying not to, but he can't help himself. Arthur's there all right. On his back, strapped to something. His head is held in a white collar, tube up his nose. He won't like that. Not at all. He won't have liked the needles they must have put in him, either. He doesn't like needles and Merlin wasn't there to reassure him. Merlin always stands right beside him when they do the needles at blood donating. 

"Hello. You're ugly as ever, I see."

Arthur's face is bruised. Green and purple. It's almost pretty, the way is spreads over his cheek and nose and chin. Merlin picks up Arthur's hand and that's bruised, too. Dark spread over knuckles, on the fragile skin between his thumb and fingers, across the palm. 

"You're just one big bruise."

Merlin looks back to Arthur's face. He's avoiding the rest, the real injuries at his back and his leg. The mangled leg. Merlin shakes himself and looks at Arthur's face. Traces the line of his profile with his eyes. Arthur's eyes are shut, his mouth open slightly, breathing quietly and regularly. Merlin bites his lip. What's he meant to say?

"Wake up, Arthur."

He waits. But Arthur doesn't wake. Nor does he wake when Merlin rants about Mithian and Percy and nightball. Nor does he wake when Merlin remembers Gili doesn't know to feed the sheep and tells Arthur his sheep are all going to waste away. Nor does he wake when Merlin, giving up on dignity, begs him to. 

He doesn't wake the next day, either. Settled into a room, stable enough to not be in the ICU much to the doctor's delight. The x-rays come back clean and the doctors says the back pain is just a sprain, so that danger is gone. Merlin sits with Arthur for visiting hours, the others traipsing in and out in groups. 

The days fall into a pattern. Merlin sits, the others come and go. Mordred brings piano music and books and footballs and five live commentaries, Percy bring Gwaine to chatter on, Gwen sits on the edge of the bed and strokes Arthur's hair, talking quietly about what a good man he's going to be and how proud she is of him. Lance comes and stands quietly, watching Arthur with a worried frown. Leon comes with Mithian, hanging on to her and peering anxiously at Arthur, blinking and leaving quickly. Merlin sits. Elyan comes by with a book about how to wake coma patients, which makes Merlin angry because Arthur isn't in a coma. He's just sleeping.

"You're not to copy your mother, Arthur. I know you think people in hospitals aren't meant to wake, but you're wrong. You are meant to wake. You have to," Merlin says one day.

It's been a week, a whole week has gone by since the accident and still Arthur sleeps on. The bruises are still livid on his pale skin and Merlin's taken to tracing the clear skin along the edge of the bruise, following the line of discoloured skin on Arthur's hands and face. Everyone's there, for some reason, packed into the private room Uther ordered from abroad. Packed is the wrong word, it's a big room and they're lounging. Leon and Mithian on the window seat, Elyan, Gwen and Lance on the sofa, Gwaine on Percy's lap on the chair. Mordred's stood by the bed looking down and Merlin's sat, as always, at Arthur's side. 

"Arthur? I brought some more piano music. Lane from school says that pianos are good for the soul. I think she was trying to be romantic. I don't really think she's hot, though. You've met her, right? The long skinny one with funny hair? Yeah, that weekend you came home," Morded says.

Mordred goes to put a CD in the player. Merlin watches, then turns back to Arthur, leaning close as the music fills the room.

"You have to wake up, Arthur. Mordred keeps talking as if you're already awake. I don't think he'll be okay if you don't wake. He's not broken your butterflies, though. He showed me last night," Merlin says.

Merlin sighs and leans back again, about to look away, look for Mordred. But then the hand in his twitches, fingers pressing Merlin's hand. Merlin's head snaps back to Arthur's face, hoping, hoping... but Arthur's eyes are still shut. Merlin sighs again, disappointment filling him. Then Arthur's lips open wider and Arthur licks his lips.

"Arthur?" Merlin says.

Merlin can't look away from Arthur's mouth. He's never really thought about Arthur's lips before. Arthur's fingers press Merlin's palm again. 

"I think he's waking up! Guys, I think he's waking up!" Merlin says.

"I'll go get Mum. I'll get Mum, Arthur, come on! You have to... I'll get Mum!" Mordred says.

Mordred rushes from the room. Everyone else is stood frozen, watching Arthur twitching. Their rapt attention would be funny, but no one's paying any attention. They're all too busy watching Arthur's eyes flicker under his eyelids, his eyes slit open and then shut again, his nostrils flare. Well, maybe only Merlin notices the last. No one else is really close enough. 

"Arthur, that's it. Come on. Someone get the doctor. He's waking up, aren't you Arthur? That's it," Merlin says.

Arthur snuffles and twitches his nose against the nasal cannula, turns his head a little to press against the pillow, trying to rub the tubes away.

"No, you need that. Oxygen is good. Your body's needed a bit of help. Maybe they'll take it away when you wake, so you'd better wake up properly," Merlin says.

Arthur's eyes flicker again, slit open. Merlin smiles at him when Arthur squints at him.

"Ha! He's awake, he's awake! I told them you'd wake up. Stubborn prat. Now, now that you're awake, you are not to do that again, do you hear? You need your blood you stupid idiot. No bleeding. And no crashing! How the hell did you manage that? You're supposed to drive carefully! And why did you ring the house? What if no one had been there? What then? You call an ambulance when you're hurt you nincompoop. What kind of idiot are you? Jesus Arthur, you're such... you're such a prat. Why'd you go and crash? What was that even about? And-" Merlin says, all in a rush.

"Mmm," Arthur says, restless.

"What? What? He spoke! Did you all hear? He-" Merlin says.

"Mer...lin," Arthur says, cutting him off. 

"Yes? Yes? What is it?" Merlin says. 

"Shuddup," Arthur says.

Merlin laughs and reaches out to cradle Arthur's face. His eyes are shut again but Merlin would bet he's trying to glare. The beautiful bruised face is definitely pouting. Stupid pouty lips. Stupid face. Stupid, wonderful face.

"Arthur, you stupid, wonderful... God. I thought I'd lost you. You... You can't. You can't die," Merlin says.

"Hnn?"

"No. No dying. I won't have it. Arthur, I won't. What would... what would I do? What was I supposed to do without you?" Merlin asks.

Merlin tries to sniff back the tears, but he can't. Arthur's awake. He's awake. And he's so beautiful and so there and Merlin loves him. He really, really loves this stupid man. Merlin blinks, shocked out of his tears. 

"What?" Merlin asks. 

"No one said anything, Merlin," Gwen says.

Merlin ignores her. What the hell? He loves Arthur? Well, like a friend, yeah. But... not as a friend as well. No, he-

"I love you," Merlin says in shocked surprise. 

"Mmer?" Arthur says. 

"Yeah, yeah. It's me. I'm gay, and I love you. Oh dear God I really do," Merlin says. 

"Wha'?" Arthur says.

"I know, I know. I know Mithian's perfect and get that she's going to be... but I do and I can't help it. I mean, I didn't even know until just now, but I do. I have for a while."

Arthur smiles but he seems confused. So Merlin makes him understand. He kisses him.


	2. Part Two

Crap. Bugger. Fuck. Yes, Merlin thought it; he thought the big bad 'f' word. Fuck. It feels right. Definite summing up of situation; fuck. Or SNAFU. Good word, SNAFU. That's the best word for it. Merlin reaches out to touch the medical supplies. He's pretty sure he's no allowed in here. There are bandages. That's about all Merlin can identify. Bandages. To keep blood in people. People without blood. Arthur. No, not thinking about Arthur. Not thinking about... about the kiss. The stupid, impulsive... 

Why does he have to love Arthur of all people? Why can't he be gay and not be in love with Arthur, or straight even? Arthur's going to marry Mithian and Merlin's going to be left to pine like a pathetic whelp. And he kissed Arthur! In front of everyone! Well, not everyone. Mordred and Viv coming in had brought Merlin to his senses; Mordred's 'what have I missed?'. He'd kissed Arthur. Of all people. His best friend. When Arthur couldn't say no.

Arthur lying all pathetic and vulnerable and unable to defend himself from unwanted mouth to mouth contact with his best mate. Well, ex best mate now, Merlin supposes. Arthur hadn't had any choice, Merlin had just attacked. Mouth first. Arthur had just looked so lovely and Merlin was so glad he was awake and everything had just exploded. He'd basically taken away Arthur's will, though. He hadn't even asked consent! Oh god!

Merlin tugs his hand away and a cascade of something plastic topples off the shelf, hitting him in the face. He stands still and silent, hoping no one heard, and when the door stays firmly shut he gathers the plastic things and puts them back. He's pretty sure they're more higgledy piggledy than before, and more precarious, but they're on the shelf. It's good enough. 

When Mordred had brought Merlin back to earth he'd stopped, though. He hadn't just kept on going indefinitely without Arthur's consent. He hadn't... it hadn't been so bad. Arthur had been gazing at him through squinted eyes, though, all glazed by drugs and so confused. He's looked utterly baffled, like he had no idea what was going on. Merlin had panicked. Everyone had seen him, had heard him declare his big gay love for Arthur. 

Which is why Merlin is now hiding in a cupboard he's pretty sure he's not allowed in. 

“Oh God, oh God. I know I don't really believe in you, but if you could just turn back time? Please? Amen.”

Merlin waits, but nothing happens. Maybe bringing Arthur back is the only miracle he's getting today. He sighs and then jumps when the door opens, spinning and knocking a shelf of bandages onto the floor. A male nurse blinks at him, frowning in confusion. 

“What are you doing in my cupboard? No, leave those. I'll pick them up,” he says. 

Merlin straightens from where he'd stooped to gather the knocked off supplies. 

“Um... I'm just... I was...” Merlin says, trying to think of an excuse.

“Hiding?”

“No!”

“Whatever it was you can't do it in here. Come on out, please.”

Merlin comes out. He laughs at the irony of that- coming out of a closet. Stupid metaphor, stupid closet. He suddenly wonders if Arthur's okay. He'd woken up, sure, but what if he has brain damage? What if Merlin just kissed someone with brain damage? He scuttles down the corridor ignoring the nurse. He breaks into a jog and then a sprint and bumps right into Percy outside Arthur's room, coming to an abrupt halt against the man's chest.

“Merlin! Merlin, there you are. I've found him guys!” Percy says. 

“I don't think that counts as finding him, Perce. He ran smack into you.” Gwaine says. 

There's a general chaos of people getting in Merlin's way and he struggles against them, trying to get through. He has to see if he damaged Arthur, he has to see. 

“Merlin, Merlin. Stop."

Merlin stops. Leon's deep, calm voice is commanding. Leon doesn't talk a lot but when he does he commands attention. Merlin stops. 

“Right. I'm going to just keep hold of you, okay?” Leon says.

Merlin nods, then realises that Leon has his arms wrapped around Merlin, holding him still against his chest. They both relax a bit.

“Good. Now, it's fine. We all knew you were gay and we all knew you fancied the pants off of Arthur, whether you knew or not. So no issues with us lot. I don't know what Arthur will think but now is not the time to deal with that so take a deep breath and calm down,” Leon says.

Merlin takes a deep breath. Leon's right. Now isn't the-

“What? You all knew I what?” Merlin asks.

“Fancy the pants off of Arthur. Well, not literally. We have a bet going on how long it'll take for his pants to actually-” Leon says. 

“But... but... I didn't!” Merlin says.

Merlin did. He just didn't realise that what he was feeling was... well, this. 

“All right. I'm going to let go, but no going crazy and running off, okay?” Leon says.

“Okay," Merlin agrees.

Leon's arms relax slowly and then Merlin is able to step back. Everyone's watching him anxiously. 

“Sorry,” Merlin says. 

“It's okay, Merlin. I don't think it was that weird a reaction to kissing Arthur. He is, after all, a bit of a toad,” Mordred says. 

Merlin grins at him but it's mostly for show. Why are they all out here in the corridor? Is Arthur scared for life from Merlin's... transgression?

“What's going on?” Merlin asks.

“We got kicked out so Mr. Doctor can examine Arthur and ask him questions and stuff," Gwaine says.

“What Gwaine means is-” Mithian says. 

“I mean exactly what I said, Mithian. Thank you very-” Gwaine says. 

“Arthur's just being-” Gwen says.

“The doctor said something about-” Lance says. 

Merlin listens as everyone talks at the same time, cutting one another off. Before he can work out what exactly is going on the doctor steps out of Arthur's room. 

“Vivienne?” the doctor says. 

“Yes. Here. Doctor, is he okay?”

“I'd like to speak with you alone. It's policy.”

“Of course.”

Merlin hopes Viv will take him with her again, but she doesn't. He's left to anxiously wait with the others. A nurse comes out a few moments later and smiles, allowing them back into the room. Merlin goes back to his seat by Arthur, who, to Merlin's surprise is awake. He thought Arthur would have drifted off again, that's what happens in films. The ill person wakes for a few moments and then sleeps again. But Arthur's eyes are wide open, fixed on Merlin's face.

“Merlin?” Arthur asks.

“Yeah. It's me. Sorry.”

“You went.”

“Yes. Sorry.”

“You're back?”

“Um. Yes. Okay. I am.”

“Kay.”

Arthur's eyes drift shut, then open again, skimming the room.

“Mord?”

“He's... here.”

“Hi Arthur,” Mordred says, coming closer.

“Hmm. 'terflies?” Arthur mumbles, reaching out. 

“Still there,” Mordred says. 

“Mm.”

Arthur closes his eyes, hand snagging in Mordred's shirt a moment before flopping back to the bed, and then he's asleep. Mordred flattens Arthur's hair with a focussed expression and then steps back.

“Will someone take me home, please?” Mordred says.

Merlin looks up at Mordred. He should probably go too, make sure Mordred's okay. Arthur would want that of him. But Mithian uncurls from a chair and steps forward.

“I'll take you. We can make pancakes or something,” she says.

“Okay,” Mordred says.

Merlin looks back at Arthur. He really wants Arthur to be his, but he's not. Not ever going to be, either. So Merlin will just have to let Mithian take over. She can look after Mordred. Probably better then Merlin can. Probably. He takes Arthur's hand and runs his thumb over the bruise. At least Arthur's awake and alive and okay, or going to be okay at least. There are good things. Merlin can get over the rest, he has to. 

Vivienne comes in about half an hour after Mordred goes, face falling to worry when she doesn't find her son among the few people left. Most have gone back to the farm for food and sleep, needing rest they've missed now that the main worry is over. 

“He went home. Mithian took him,” Merlin says.

“Ah. Thank you, Merlin,” Vivienne says.

“How's Arthur?” Merlin asks.

“Doing well. The doctor can't find any brain damage, they'll keep testing as he wake up properly. He's still confused though, from the drugs and everything. He's on strong pain killers. Morphine, I think. Some long name that sounded similar at least. Um, they're booking him for more surgery now, now they can asses the head wound better I mean. For the leg.”

“Oh.”

“I'm going to head back, get some sleep. I think you should come with me Merlin. I want to talk to you about maybe having your Mother come down and stay with us.”

“Why?”

“To help you. I think you need someone to help you.”

“I'm fine. Arthur's the hurt one.”

“All right. I still think I'll invite Hunith, just in case.”

“Okay. I want to stay though.”

“All right. Anyone else want a ride?”

Gwaine stretches out, nudging Percy to stand.

“Perce will go,” Gwaine says. 

Percy nods and pulls Lance to his feet as well. That leaves Merlin alone with Arthur and Gwaine. Merlin wishes Gwaine would go as well, but he's pulling a chair closer to the bed instead of getting up to leave. Merlin hunches over to avoid his eyes. 

“Merlin,” Gwaine says.

“What?”

“What's in your head?”

“What do you mean?”

“About the kiss. I know it was embarrassing to out yourself and declare your love, but what else?”

“Nothing.”

Gwaine reaches across Arthur and ruffles Merlin's hair, so Merlin gives in. Because it's Gwaine.

“He couldn't give consent. Couldn't say no,” Merlin admits. 

“Ah. I see. I get it, I do. But you're wrong. I don't know if Arthur fancies you or if he'd want to be kissed or any of that. And if that had been a 'god I'm going to have sex in your hospital bed' kind of kiss, maybe we'd have to consider it a little. But it wasn't. It was a 'shit you're alive and I love you so fucking much' kind of kiss. Even if it was about lust to some extent it was mostly just an... an expression of relief.”

Merlin nods. He had just been overwhelmed by it, swamped by it, the utter relief and completely encompassing... something. Merlin refuses to think about love any more than he has to. It's too soppy. 

“Yes? Yes. Good. Now, can I have a minute alone with Arthur? Please?” Gwaine asks.

“He's asleep.”

“I know. I just want to sit with him for a minute.”

Merlin nods and leaves the room. Because Gwaine's known Arthur a long time. He's some sort of cousin and they spent summers together, away from their posh boarding school. Merlin forgets that because Arthur had left said posh school for Merlin's sixth form and Merlin was the one who met Gwaine at uni. And Gwaine and Arthur have a weird relationship. 

Merlin waits, leaning against the wall, but a nurse comes round to announce the end of visiting hours before Gwaine calls Merlin back in, so Merlin goes to say goodbye to Arthur and get Gwaine to drive them back. Gwaine is sitting, Arthur's hand held in both his own, head bowed over their joined hands. He's crying, Merlin's pretty sure. And Arthur's awake, watching with a quietly confused and slightly anxious look. Merlin waits, watches as Arthur reaches out and pats Gwaine's hair clumsily. Gwaine's head snaps up and he laughs, watery but glad Arthur's awake. 

“Sad?” Arthur asks.

“You scared me,” Gwaine says. 

“Mmm. I did? Merlin too. Got scared.”

“Yeah.”

“Merlin doesn't have a Percy.”

“No.”

“You'll look after?”

“Okay.”

“Kay. You're crying.”

“I know. I can't help it, it's the relief. Pathetic, isn't it? That I was so worried about such a princess.”

“S'insult?”

“What?”

“Princess. It's an ins... Gwaine?”

“Yeah?”

“Kay.”

“Go to sleep, Arthur.”

“Mmhmm.”

Arthur pats Gwaine's head again, misses and bats him in the face. Gwaine laughs and catches his hands, pressing them back to the bed. He leans over and whispers something and then Arthur's asleep and Gwaine's straightening. Merlin clears his throat as if he just walked in.

“Oh, sorry. Are visiting hours over?” Gwaine asks.

“Yes,” Merlin says.

“Ah. I didn't mean to take up all the time. I'm sorry.”

“That's okay. I'll just say bye to him.”

Gwaine nods and steps back, allowing Merlin to press a hand to Arthur's forehead and nudge his cheek gently with his knuckles. They leave together, Merlin feeling a bit closer to Gwaine and finding comfort in it, that Gwaine's still upset as well. Gwaine, when they get back, takes him to the spare room and squishes him until he gives in and sleeps. He wakes up to the quiet voices of Percy and Gwaine, and drifts off again feeling safe. 

“So then Percy was like 'if Merlin's sleeping with you, who am I meant to sleep with?'. So now I'm back in your room,” Merlin says to Arthur, a few days later. 

“Huh?” Arthur says. 

“Well, Percy made a carefully subtle hint that he was tired of not sleeping with Gwaine and might go elsewhere for company. See?”

Arthur nods listlessly and sighs. Percy hadn't really meant anything except where should he sleep and Gwiane hadn't actually kicked Merlin out, Merlin had just gone. But this way it's a funny story. Or should be. Except Arthur's high as a kite but still in pain and not really sure about what's going on one minute from the next. It's been like that since he woke up. Merlin reaches out and rubs a thumb over the unbruised part of Arthur's hand in reassurance.

“Sorry Merlin. What were you sayin'?” Arthur asks, trying to focus. 

“Nothing. Don't worry. Are you feeling okay?”

“Mm. What's that?”

“What?”

“In your bag.”

Merlin looks. He brought a carrier bag of stuff from Hunith, who's waiting until Arthur's a little better to visit so as not to make him anxious. For some reason Arthur's never been all that comfortable around Hunith. 

“Um... a few books. Crossword books. I think there's probably an old dot to dot book in there,” Merlin says, wondering what caught Arthur's eye. 

“No, the grey. The grey ears, Merlin.”

Merlin frowns. Ears? He wonders if Arthur's hallucinating. He hasn't yet but the doctor said he might. But, sure enough, there is a pair of grey ears sticking out between two books. Merlin tugs and is shocked to see Sylvia pop out, the little rabbit in a white and blue suit he'd thought he threw away years ago. 

“Huh. It's Sylvia," Merlin says.

“Sylvia?”

“Yeah. I threw her away.”

“'S'a boy.”

“Nope, she's a girl.”

“But... no. Boy.”

“Sylvia's a girl's name.”

Arthur nods and reaches out, then pulls his hand back.

“Can I touch?” Arthur asks. 

Merlin laughs. 

“How come you're never this polite usually?” he asks. 

“I'm not?”

“No.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

And an apology. Merlin hands Sylvia over and laughs again when Arthur rubs his face against the soft fur.

“Definitely a boy. Call him Charles,” Arthur says firmly. 

“Charles?”

“Mmhmm. Charles Darwin. Cus he survived.”

“Yeah? Survived what?”

“Your cruel tossing away. Mer?”

“Mm?”

“Can I keep?”

Merlin smiles and takes the rabbit, tucking her carefully under the covers with Arthur. It brings his face very close to Arthur's lips and, to Merlin shock, Arthur leans forward the two centimetres between them and kisses his cheek before settling down. Merlin pulls back and looks down, but Arthur's fussing with the cover and with Sylvia and generally not paying Merlin any attention. 

“What was that?” Merlin asks.

“What? Merlin, I'm not comfy.”

“Don't whine. You kissed me!”

Merlin untangles Arthur from the cover, gets him untwisted from the gown and re-settles him, covering him once more. 

“Oh. I wanted to. Thanks," Arthur says lightly. 

“But-”

“I'm tired.”

Merlin watches Arthur shut his eyes and wonders if Arthur's just trying to get out of the conversation, but then decides not. There are dark circles under his eyes and from the way his brow's crinkling he's in pain. So Merlin leaves it, focussing instead on getting Arthur to sleep. He's just dozed off when Gwaine and Leon walk in, peering round the door to see if Arthur's sleeping, first. When they realise he is they grin and tiptoe across the room to the sofa, zipping their mouths shut and sitting quietly. Merlin rolls his eyes at their antics. They've all been far too hyperactive and excitable since Arthur woke, which is why Merlin's alone here more and more often. Arthur needs calm, not crazy stunts and conversation at rising volumes and boisterous laughter. Merlin pulls out a cross word book and throws it at Leon's head. 

“Merlin?” Arthur says, a day later. 

“Yes Arthur?”

“Why's... why's your jumper brown?”

These questions have been coming thick and fast, which is why Merlin doesn't bother answering. He answered the first twenty 'why is...' questions but now he's given up.

“Because 'y' has a long tale," he says, then adds, "and a long tail."

“Tha's not'a answer.”

“It's in a book. Therefore, answer.”

“Nuh. I found the book. S'a answer to th' lass quez... queshun. Cus the Dad doesn' wana answer, the boy says why, ana Dad says bec....”

Arthur sighs and trails off. Merlin makes a sympathetic noise and stands, going to the bed to see if he can help. Arthur's been in pain today, even with higher levels of pain meds. The surgery on his leg and the movement to get it done has made him kind of washed out.

“Can I help?” Merlin asks.

“It hurts. Just... everywhere.”

Merlin reaches out, but pulls his hand back unsure of where to touch. Arthur's not particularly lucid so he's not going to know either.

“I can't... I'm holding myself in this position and it hurts," Arthur says, quietly.

Or maybe he can. Merlin knows what he means, he noticed it the other day. Arthur will find a comfy position and then hold his body still, muscles tensing so he doesn't move because moving hurts. Except the more tense his muscles become the more he hurts anyway. 

“Can you lie here?” Arthur asks.

His eyes are half vacant and half pained. Merlin hesitates. Then Arthur lets out a sharp sound, an almost whimper, and his hand fists in the sheet, so Merlin kicks off his shoes and, scooping Sylvia off the floor, he gets carefully onto the bed. Arthur rolls against him, breathing heavily against Merlin's neck, hand tangling in Merlin's shirt instead of the sheet. Merlin sighs when Arthur relaxes and starts snoring, Sylvia tucked under one arm, huddled against Merlin's chest, still mostly on his back. It can't really be that comfortable but Merlin decides to wait until Arthur drifts deeper to lay him down. 

“Aw, that's so sweet,” Gwen says from the sofa.

“Shut up, Gwenevere,” Merlin says, without heat.

Gwen laughs and turns a page. He can hear the page turning and knows she's just doing it to make a point. A point that she's shutting up right now. Very pointed page turning, that. Arthur snorts and settles deeper, so Merlin lays him carefully on his back, Sylvia still clutched in one arm. He wants to stay, to lie here with Arthur in his arms forever, but that's not going to happen. Besides, he has a cheeky Gwen to tell off. 

“Merlin?” Arthur asks, another day.

“Yes Arthur, dear?” Merlin say.

“Is Mordred coming today?”

“Oh. Yeah, he'll be by later. Sorry, I thought you were going to be annoying again.”

“'Noy?”

“Yeah, you annoy me.”

Arthur smiles and wriggles a little, wincing as it jars his leg. 

“When's the next surgery?” Arthur asks. 

“Next week.”

“Then I can have a cast and go home?”

“I think so. The doctor said we'd see.”

“I'm bored, Merlin.”

“You're high. It's supposed to be fun.”

“I just feel weird. Twitchy. My nose itches, can you scratch it?”

“Scratch it yourself, your arms are fine.”

“They're heavy.”

Merlin opens his mouth to mock but Arthur does look tired. He looks pathetic. Merlin knows Arthur's taking advantage of that to get what he wants, but Merlin gives in anyway. He reaches across to scratch Arthur's nose, and as soon as his head gets within arms reach of Arthur, Arthur grabs him by the back of the neck and tugs, kissing Merlin. Again. This time on the lips. 

“Hmm. S'better. G'night.”

Arthur lets go and shuts his eyes, dozing off with a smile. Merlin would suspect him of faking except he does keep drifting off in the middle of conversations. Merlin still suspects him of doing it on purpose. Then he stops being indignant and smiles, touching his lips. He knows it's just because Arthur's all drugged up and looking for entertainment, but it was still nice. Gentle. 

“Merlin?” Arthur asks, a few days later. 

“I'm here. Right beside you.”

“Oh.”

“Mordred's here, too. And Viv. Gwaine's pacing the corridor. The others have gone, though.”

“Kay.”

Merlin strokes Arthur's hand and watches Arthur gasp for breath. He hasn't been in this much pain yet, but the doctor says they can't give him any more. He's as high as they can let him. 

“My... leg... take it off!”

Merlin laughs, half in tears, and gets onto the bed. He lies carefully beside Arthur and wraps an arm around his waist, avoiding the bruised ribs. He cradles Arthur's head with his other arm and pulls Arthur close. 

“Shh. Breathe. Slow down,” Merlin says.

Mordred's watching them, eyes wide and afraid, Viv's hand held tightly in his own. Gwaine slips in as Arthur moans in pain and leans against the door looking a little desperate. Merlin smiles and puts his mouth close to Arthur's ear.

“Do you remember last term? The lake?” Merlin asks.

Arthur stills as much as he can, muscles trembling against the pain.

“Good. The water was astonishingly blue. We stood and looked out and you told me my eyes were that blue, too, and my cheek bones were kicking off. Do you remember?”

Arthur gives a tiny nod, fingers tight against Merlin's skin. 

“I liked that. I'd been feeling down and you were cheering me up. You're good at that. You made me take a huge, deep breath and close my eyes.”

Arthur's eyes shut and his breathing stutters in deeper than before. It takes a while and Merlin's hoarse by the time it's done, but Arthur eventually sleeps. His fingers loosen their grip on Merlin's shirt and his mouth slackens from tight with pain to gormless with sleep. Merlin sighs in relief and slips back to his chair. Mordred's in tears and Gwaine is biting his lip hard, looking like he wants to bolt. Merlin can't be bothered to deal with anything, though. He just rests his head on Arthur's bed and closes his eyes against it all.

The pain lessens after that. They cast Arthur's leg a week later and Merlin starts to actually sleep. His Mother has got into the habit of making everyone breakfast, having conversations with each of them to make sure they're coping and then sending them off on some busy task or other that takes their minds off Arthur until visiting hours. Merlin knows that now Arthur's out of danger, healing and pretty much himself again they'll head off back home. He's going to stay, though. As long as Viv lets him. 

He and Leon and Mith are the only ones visiting today, the others all starting to pack and make travel plans. Leon drives, Merlin sulks. He doesn't want to go with Mithian. She'll be all attentive and nice and perfect for Arthur and Merlin will have to let her, because Arthur likes her. It's annoying. And Merlin knows he's in love with Arthur now, knows that's why it hurts, knows it's jealousy, but he still can't stop it. Knowing doesn't help. 

He trails after them, scowling at all the nurses. Arthur's propped up on pillows, head of the bed raised, doing dot to dots. When they enter he throws the book at Leon (who always seems to get puzzle book thrown at him these days, poor thing).

"Finally! I'm so damned bored!" Arthur says.

"You're supposed to be resting, Arthur dear," Mithian says. 

She bustles over and re-arranges the covers, kissing Arthur's cheek. Merlin goes and stands by the window ignoring their whispering. 

"Merlin! What are you doing? Come be entertaining. Trip over something, that's always funny," Arthur demands.

"Oh God, I miss when you were high and being almost reasonable," Leon says.

"I am reasonable. I'm reasonable as... reasonable people. But I'm bored and Merlin being a clutz is funny. Admit it," Arthur says, but he's watching Merlin.

"I will do no such thing, because I, unlike you, am not a prat," Leon says. 

Merlin turns reluctantly and makes his way over to the bed. He only goes because Arthur looks concerned. Once he's close enough Arthur grabs his hand and tugs him onto the bed, holding on to him.

"Go, minions. Find me food that doesn't taste like glue and return post haste," Arthur says. 

Leon and Mithian leave. Merlin's sure there's grumbling and stuff, but he's busy not being embarrassed at how close he is to Arthur and how Arthur's holding his hand. He closes his eyes. 

"Merlin, Merlin! No sleeping. That's not allowed. Be funny, come on," Arthur says, shaking him. 

"Shut up, Arthur. I'm tired."

"I know you are. Mithian asked Leon out, finally. Aren't they cute together? Like two grapes."

"Grapes?"

Merlin realises that's probably not the question he needs an answer to. Mithian asked Leon out. Mithian and Leon. He's not as surprised as he should be. 

"I'm sorry. They've gotten closer since you crashed," Merlin says.

"Why on earth are you sorry? You are strange, Merlin."

"You like her! Don't deny it. She's perfect for you. Tall and beautiful and funny and strong and rude."

"And brilliant at quad biking! Oh my god! That huge sulk, the day I crashed..." Arthur starts laughing, wincing and cursing as it jostles his bruises but he keeps on laughing, clutching Merlin's hand, "Oh Merlin, you are funny. Thank you. Me and Mithian, sitting in a tree. You're jealous! You are so jealous you're green!"

"Shut up."

Merlin tries to pull away but Arthur holds on, still laughing. 

"Stop it. I'm allowed to laugh, I'm still high. I actually can't really stop. You like me? You love me! Like, properly, want to be boyfriends love me. Wow," Arthur says.

He stops laughing and lets Merlin go. Merlin stands and goes back to his window. So Arthur knows.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realise until you crashed your stupid car and maimed yourself. I didn't mean to. I just... I do. I'm so sorry. I won't... can we still be friends? I understand if you want me to leave you alone. It... no, I don't actually. I never did anything to you and I never will. I-"

"Shut up, Merlin. My head hurts. Come back here, would you? I don't want to shout."

Merlin goes but he keeps his eyes off Arthur. If Arthur wants to tell him to leave him alone, Merlin will tell him just where to put that idea. 

"Merlin, would you look at me? I'm going to bite. I'd rather like to kiss you, actually."

"Don't mock me."

"For God's sake, you're such a girl! You like me, I like you, we should kiss. Must you be so dramatic about everything?"

"You... you..."

"Yes, I like you. Have for ages. As you'd know if you had half a brain cell. I've been flirting with you for years."

"Flirting... that's flirting? Insulting me, pushing me around, making me do things like quad biking, making me play football, making me watch rugby, forcing me to eat your horrible attempts at cooking, wrestling me to the floor to 'practise'-"

"Shut up. So I'm not brilliant at it, sue me. You must have at least realised I'm gay?"

"You are?"

"I am. I draped our flat in rainbows you idiot!"

"I thought... I thought it was your way of saying you weren't going to hate me for thinking I might be bi. It was right after I went to those LGBT things, and I didn't think I was gay but I thought maybe I was a little bit bi and I thought maybe you... noticed. Right. I'm an idiot."

"Such an idiot. Now, kiss me. My leg hurts, my back hurts, my head hurts, everything hurts. Kiss it better."

Merlin looks up at Arthur. He's such a demanding prat. But he's also... he looks fond, amused. And very gentle. He reaches out and cups Merlin's face, smiling at him.

"There. Hi," Arthur says. 

"Hello."

"All right?"

Merlin nods. Arthur nods. Then Merlin kisses him. Only, he's a little too enthusiastic and their noses bump and Merlin topples into Arthur and makes him grumble in pain and about Merlin's clumsiness and then Merlin shuts him up. 

Arthur makes Merlin kiss every single ache and pain, enjoying his new found 'cure'. He even makes Merlin kiss him in front of Leon and Mithian which is immensely embarrassing. And then, when they're gone, Arthur pulls Merlin onto the bed properly and holds onto him until he falls asleep, pressing little kisses into his hair. And muttering insults, but he doesn't expect Arthur to ever change much. He's too much of a prat.

Merlin walks into the hospital room with Arthur's sports bag slung over his shoulder. He's running over the list of things Arthur asked for yesterday and the list of things he made himself last night, making sure he's not forgotten too much. He pauses in the doorway because Arthur has his head bowed over Mordred's wrist, drawing with the soft brush and natural paints the doctor said would be fine. Mordred looks up and beckons Merlin over, though. 

“He's re-doing them because they were fading,” he says.

“Did you remember my joggers, Merlin? Can't go with my arse hanging out of this horrible gown, can I?” Arthur says, still concentrating on the damaged skin of Mordred's wrist.

“Got them. And every other weird thing on your list.”

“Mm. Good. Oh, damn. That's... sorry, it smudged.”

Merlin laughs at the one giant eye on the butterfly. Arthur's gotten pretty good at drawing them, though. This one has very ornate wings, coloured carefully and precisely. Merlin's always impressed with what Arthur manages on the tiny scale this is. 

“It's fine. I like these wings,” Mordred says.

“Good. Now, no breaking them. I am very busy and important and can't be chasing you round the countryside to draw butterflies.”

Mordred laughs. 

“But you will if I do, right?”

“Right. Go away, I'm going to get dressed so I can get out of here before I go bonkers.”

“You're already-” Mordred starts.

“Yeah yeah. Shoo.”

Mordred goes, smirking and examining his wrists. Merlin takes his place on the bed and bites his lip, wanting to kiss Arthur but still not sure. Arthur rolls his eyes and tugs until their lips meet, so that solves that. 

“There. Hello Merlin.”

“Hi.”

“Find my t-shirt, first. I'll do the top half, then you can help me with my trousers and stuff. Oh damn, I forgot to ask you to bring socks.”

“Got them. Here, shirt.”

Merlin hands it over with a dubious look. It's one of Arthur's really horrendously old ones, coming apart at the seams. 

“It's soft, shut up," Arthur says, correctly reading the look.

Arthur manoeuvres himself to the edge of the bed and sits, leg hanging off and cast sticking out, undoing the gown. Merlin waits, leaning against the wall. Arthur winces and grumbles as he tugs the shirt on, the movement pulling at his muscles and straining his back. Merlin considers helping, but Arthur's stubborn so he just watches. 

“Ow. Did you bring my- thanks," Arthur says.

Merlin hands over the jumper before Arthur can ask. This is newer then the shirt, a cashmere jumper that Morgana gifted Arthur last Christmas. The jumper reminds Merlin of his news which he passes on while Arthur winces and struggles his way into his clothes. 

“Morgana called. She finally got Viv's message. She says she'll come home if you need her."

“Where is she?”

“Um... possibly... not sure. Africa somewhere, building something. Probably a school. She ranted a lot about your Dad, who we've also heard from. He's coming home at the end of the week and wants you to go stay with him to recover.”

“Maybe. Be close to you, wouldn't I, if you went home?”

“Would that be a consideration?”

“Stop being an idiot and help me with my trousers.”

“Boxers first.”

Merlin kneels, threading Arthur's legs into the underwear and getting them up to his thighs.

“Okay. Put your hands on my shoulders. I'll help you lift up, then I'll-”

“Yeah yeah.”

Merlin grins as Arthur's hands land on his shoulders, eyes rolling. He's such a prat. It works pretty well and they do the trousers the same way, then Merlin rolls on the sock and ties the trainer before standing back to survey his work.

“How come these feel looser? Am I less fat?” Arthur asks, tugging the waist band of his trousers.

“Nope. These belong to Percy. Thought they'd fit over the cast better. They have a tie waist.”

“Oh. I see,” Arthur says, tugging them tighter and tying them. 

“Still a fatty, I'm afraid.”

Arthur glares. Merlin grins. Everything's good. 

“Hmm. Come on, let's mosey,” Arthur says, breaking the moment.

“You're getting a nurse and carriage, riding in style.”

“Damn.”

Merlin pulls the jacket out of the bag and puts it over Arthur's shoulders, watching Arthur struggle into one sleeve and then helping him into the other when it obviously hurts his back too much. Merlin also brought a beanie, because Arthur gets cold when he's tired and between the pain, the drugs and the cast, not to mention the fact that he's in a hospital, he hasn't been getting much sleep. A nurse comes in with Mordred and a wheelchair, chipper and enthusiastic.

“Here we are. Let's get you out of here, shall we dear?” she says. 

“We shall. I hate this place. All you vampires trying to stick me,” Arthur grumbles. 

He scowls and rubs his elbow, sending the nurse an evil glare. She just goes on smiling and helps him into the chair. 

“Do we remember how to use our crutches, dearie? We'll take them today,” the nurse says.

“Yes, we do remember,” Arthur says, face clouding.

“Good. Have you got-”

“I have the drugs, the prescriptions, the instructions, the appointment for PT, I've made one with my GP, I have everything. Get me out of here,” Arthur snaps. 

Merlin's glad it's the nurse dealing with Arthur's moodiness. She just grins inanely and pushes him out of the room, leaving Merlin and Mordred to gather the accumulation of stuff, mostly packed. Merlin frowns when he doesn't see Sylvia but trusts Arthur not to have left her. She must be in one of the bags. They follow Arthur to the entrance where Merlin takes over from the nurse and pushes Arthur to the car. 

“I'm driving,” Merlin says. 

“Never. Mordred doesn't have a license, Merlin,” Arthur says, sounding less grumpy but still snappish.

“Shut up,” Merlin says.

He helps Arthur manoeuvre himself into the front seat, folds the chair and shoves it into the back with Mordred and the stuff, then jogs around to the driver's side. He's about to start the engine but Arthur's sharp gasp stops him, he looks over. Arthur's pale, hand gripping the handle above the door. The other hand is on his thigh, knuckles white. 

“Are you in pain?” Merlin asks.

Arthur shakes his head, eyes shut. His mouth is a thin line. 

“Get on with it, Merlin,” he says. 

Merlin starts the engine and Arthur gasps again. When Merlin pulls out Arthur's hand darts from his own thigh to Merlin's, clutching painfully. Merlin realises the problem.

“Okay, just relax. Take a deep breath, Arthur. You're fine,” he says, quietly.

Arthur glares, eyes slitting open, but takes a deep breath. Merlin stops as smoothly as he can for traffic, hand rubbing across Arthur's knuckles. 

“We're going to be fine. If you need a break, tell me to pull over okay?” Merlin says. 

“Yes, Mother,” Arthur snaps.

“Promise. It's not a-”

“I promise. Traffic's moving.”

“Right.”

Merlin drives carefully all the way home, hand straying to Arthur's whenever they stop for lights or traffic. He's careful on corners and makes sure to check whenever he pulls out, doesn't over take even when they get stuck behind a tractor and basically drives like a little old woman. Arthur's eyes stay tightly shut, his breathing sharp and stuttering whenever they come to a standstill or round a sharp corner. When they pull up in the yard Mordred jumps out with the stuff, making for the house, and Arthur bends forward and starts to cry. 

Merlin turns off the engine and gets out, going around the car so he can crouch by Arthur's side and pull Arthur against him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. He's never seen Arthur cry before. He hopes Mordred keeps everyone inside. Arthur's shaking, hands clenching and unclenching in Merlin's shirt. 

“Shh. It's all right. We're home, no mishaps,” Merlin says.

“Sorry, sorry.”

“It's fine. Shh. Relax.”

“I don't... I just...”

“It's fine. You were afraid. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Just relax, Arthur.”

Arthur does, slowly. Letting himself be soothed and reassured by Merlin. His eyes are red when he finally pulls away but Merlin doesn't comment. Only Percy and Gwaine are still here to comment, and they won't. Percy's too nice, Gwaine's too much under Percy's thumb. Merlin gets the wheelchair out and helps Arthur into it, tucking the crutches into the back. Arthur's still a bit shaky and accepts the help without any fuss. 

“All right?”

“Yes. Get on with it, Merlin.”

Arthur sounds subdued, but not too bad. Merlin takes him round to the kitchen door, the one without any steps, and pushes him in. Viv and Gwaine and Percy welcome him with loud chatter and hugs and laughter and Percy lifts Arthur down the steps to the living room, which solves Merlin's sudden worry about all the stairs in the house. As long as Percy's willing to act as chair lift they're good. 

A few hours later, Arthur's in the living room playing the piano, Merlin sprawled in an arm chair dozing, when Hunith steps into the room. Arthur doesn't notice her at first and Merlin, eyes made heavy by the music, doesn't either. Which is why he's shocked when the music ends with a clanging clunk. He jerks awake and looks across to Arthur, noting his wide eyed look. 

“I'm sorry to surprise you. I was wondering if you have a preference for dinner?” Hunith asks. 

“Hi Mum. He likes chicken,” Merlin says, noticing her and waving. 

“Yeah. I do. Good evening, Hunith,” Arthur says. 

Hunith smiles and Merlin knows she wants to say loads of things, wants to question Arthur's health and make sure he's fine, but all she say is; “I know you like chicken, I was actually going to offer you a choice between having it in pasta or having it roasted with potatoes.”

“I... either. Pasta. Please,” Arthur says.

“Pasta it is. I'll let you know when it's ready.”

Hunith leaves as silently as she came. Merlin's pretty sure she knows what's behind Arthur's skittish behaviour with her, from her private smiles whenever Merlin mentions it, but he wants to know too. And now seems a good time to ask. 

“What's with that, Arthur?”

“What?”

“You and Mum? And that time was worse than ever.”

Arthur blushes, starting as a slight pink and ranging to a bright scarlet the longer Merlin waits for an answer. Arthur clears his throat. Twice. 

“Well. See, the thing is... it's hard to... she's... it's hard to talk to a mother when you wank to fantasies of her son in the shower,” Arthur finally admits. 

“Really? Wait, it's not hard to talk to your best mate when you wank to fantasies of him in the shower?”

“Nah, that's normal, mate. Also, it's you. I was always just waiting for you to notice me. I knew once you did, we'd be... you know.”

“So, you're always awkward with Mum because you...”

“I'm embarrassed. And she's so motherly. To me.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm. More the wanking thing, though.”

Merlin laughs and laughs, he doesn't even stop when Arthur, in a fit of pique, starts playing something loud to drown him out. He just keeps thinking of Arthur at seventeen meeting Hunith for the first time, holding out the hand that, as he was seventeen, had probably recently been on his dick to images of Merlin, and saying in his poshest, politest tone 'nice to meet you, ma'am' while secretly blushing and cringing. It's funny. And it feels good to laugh, feels good to have Arthur home, playing the piano and sulking pointedly in Merlin's direction. 

Merlin sleeps in Arthur's bed as usual, but they sleep with their heads side by side instead of top to toe. It's strange and Arthur grumbles about not being able to shut Merlin up with his creepy toes when Merlin babbles in his uncertainty. 

“You could always find other ways to shut me up," Merlin says. 

“When my leg's better and my back doesn't hurt.”

“Oh. Are you in pain?”

“Yes, Merlin. Idiot.”

“Oh.”

Merlin tries to think of how he can help while Arthur huffs out his annoyance into Merlin's collar bone. Which is kind of nice. Warm puffs of air. Slightly tickly.

“I'm fine. Just moaning. The cast is heavy and makes me sit and lie oddly, which doesn't help the muscle in my back heal,” Arthur says after a moment of huffing.

Merlin nods and sits up, kissing Arthur's nose to stop him complaining (it doesn't work) and padding to Morgana's old room to commandeer her collection of cushions. He also picks up the paperwork from the hospital from Arthur's desk and switches on the bedside lamp, sorting through to the page the doctor pointed out. 

“What are you doing?” Arthur grumbles.

“Shh. Just lie still.”

Merlin looks at the diagram and reads the instructions, then elevates Arthur's leg hoping it takes the pressure off his back, as it's supposed to. 

“Oh, that's... that's better," Arthur says.

“Good. Now will you stop whining?”

“Hey! I'm an invalid!”

“Sure. Will you, as an invalid, stop whining?”

Merlin switches off the light and positions himself so he can cuddle up against Arthur's side, avoid bruises and pains, keep the cushions in place and still have a face full of Arthur's hair and shoulder. 

“Be nice to me,” Arthur says.

“I take that as 'no I will not stop whining'.”

“You're mean.”

Arthur yawns and turns his head to kiss Merlin sleepily. 

“To shut you up.”

“Mmhmm.”

Maybe it's not so weird, sharing a pillow, Merlin thinks as he dozes off. 

Uther comes down in a big, posh car a few days later and collects Arthur, Merlin, Hunith and Gwaine. He makes a distasteful face at Gwaine and mutters about his no good brother. Gwaine grins and saunters to the car, sliding in next to Merlin. Arthur's sat in the front with the seat pushed back to accommodate his cast and Merlin still has plenty of leg room, sat behind him. It must be nice to be able to just find a car amongst your collection for every occasion. 

“I wish Percy was still here so I could give the old goat a real show,” Gwaine mutters.

“Be polite, he's giving you a lift to your Dad's,” Merlin says.

“Blah blah. I'd rather head home with Percy and set up the flat before we dive headlong into work.”

“Thank your lucky stars you get the summer off. Elena started work in July.”

“Poor duck.”

“Indeed.”

“Great. Two blabber mouths for a three hour car journey. I can't wait,” Arthur says.

Gwaine and Merlin both make faces at the mirror they know Arthur's scowling into and soon enough he snorts with laughter. They consider it their duty to talk non stop for the rest of the journey. Only problem is, Arthur falls asleep within five minutes and Hunith decides that means quiet from the rest of them. She even shushes Uther, which takes guts. He rolls his eyes and tells his secretary to call back another time. 

Uther's house is huge. Arthur rolls himself up the temporary ramp that Uther's put in ('the only reason it took me so long to fetch you from that place') into the big hallways and then pauses.

“I've set you up in the blue room down here. It's an en-suit so you needn't trouble yourself about the stairs. Merlin is next door,” Uther says. 

“Ah. About that, father.”

“Has he finally come to his senses?” Uther asks. 

“Well, he's definitely-” Arthur starts.

“If you say 'come' I will do something drastic. Go away you horrible child.”

Arthur looks utterly horrified and wheels away quickly.

“I think he was going to say 'he's definitely not done that, because he's decided you go out with me', or something along those lines. Sir,” Merlin says. 

“Whichever. Go sort him, Merlin. And don't disturb me for the rest of the afternoon, I have work.”

Merlin watches Uther stomp away before following Arthur through to the bedroom. Arthur's hobbling around on crutches, muttering about where things should go and about how he has to go to PT tomorrow and he looks up, sees Merlin.

“Did you sort that? I am doing PT here and not in bloody Wales, right?” Arthur asks.

“Right. I sorted that.”

“Good, good.”

Merlin watches as Arthur unpacks, still muttering. Then Arthur tugs a load of clothes out of his bag and Sylvia falls onto the floor. Merlin had forgotten about her, assumed Arthur had given her back to Hunith. She hadn't been in any of the hospital bags when Merlin looked.

“Sylvia,” Merlin says. 

“What? Nope, that's Charles. He's mine. Sylvia got lost somewhere.”

“You're a prat. That's Sylvia and she's mine. You can share her.”

“If it were Sylvia I'd be all for it. But that's Charles. See? He's a he.”

Arthur bends, nearly falling, scoops up the rabbit and holds her up next to his head as if demonstrating his gender. 

“Boy. Say hello to Merlin, Charles.”

Merlin gives in. Partly because he doesn't mind Arthur looking after Sylvia but mostly because Arthur's... well, because he's Arthur. 

“You can have Sylvia. You can even call her Charles. As long as you answer one question.”

“Okay. Although, Charles isn't-”

“Are we dating? Are you my boyfriend?”

“God you're a right idiot. Yes. Now, finish unpacking. My back's sore.”

Arthur stretches out on the bed and orders Merlin around for a while before getting bored and picking up a book. Merlin keeps on putting things away, thinking about the flat they're going to share back home, his Masters degree, Arthur's new job, their own little world waiting for them. They'll have a spare room, now, too. Which is always nice. 

Merlin turns to look at Arthur. Whole, if not entirely healed yet. Not entirely well but mostly. Bossy and entitled, oddly endearing in his prattishness. He's on his back, book resting on his chest, looking right back at Merlin with a grin quirking his lips up a little at the edges. He's obviously been watching him for a while, the 'you caught me' look completely shameless. He holds out a demanding hand and Merlin goes without a thought, letting himself be tugged onto the bed and tucked under Arthur's arm and kissed. Letting Arthur card his hand through Merlin's hair, run fingers over his neck, down his back. Letting Arthur cradle him, reassure him and then fall asleep and drool on him. All's well that ends well, as they say. Even car crashes.


End file.
